


Patience

by BastRavenshadow



Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 11:26:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11919903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastRavenshadow/pseuds/BastRavenshadow
Summary: I pursued him and one night I finally caught him.





	Patience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Khylara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/gifts).



The feel of his lips on my shoulders wakes me.

"Okay?" he whispers, his fingers sliding across my skin.

"Mmm," I say, turning in his embrace, my mouth finding his, my arms wrapping tight around him as we begin to make love.

He never takes it for granted that the answer will be 'yes', even though it's never been 'no', and never will be. He always asks, is always careful and gentle and loving, always cares how I feel, cares about what I want, what I need.

It's good between us; it always has been, even from the very first time. 

When we met, we were co-workers, we were colleagues. We were attracted to each other from the very beginning, I think. When I saw him, I wanted him, and when I finally came to know and understand him, I fell in love with him. 

That realisation wasn't always so easy. I spent some sleepless nights thinking about it. Knowing that I loved him and that I wanted him was a shift in the way I looked at things to say the least, but adaptation is important, and I quickly became used to the idea. I welcomed it. 

He was hesitant and sweet the first time we made love. He'd never done that before – never made love. I was stunned about that, knowing that he'd had at least one relationship in the past, but he just shrugged. 

I didn't question him about it until later. At that moment in time, it was all about us, just like I'd hoped it would be, just like I dreamed it would be. I drew him into my arms, carefully, carefully… using all the patience I'd learned in all my years to touch him in the way one might a wild animal. You see, his heart had been broken – it was broken in so many pieces. Love had scarred him, had damaged him and as time went on I knew I had to fix him, or try to, at the very least. I had to take the broken pieces and put them back together, make him whole.

I wanted that. 

But he's strong – stronger than I realised, because he resisted at first, saying it wasn't right for someone like me to be with him, that it was wrong.

Love's not wrong. We're not wrong.

I did my best to show him otherwise. I pursued him and one night I finally caught him. 

I don't think he was as surprised as I was, actually. Knowing him, he wasn't surprised at all.

But slow and patient was the key to his affection, I found. He hates pushy people, and while I can be very pushy, I knew not to push here. So I didn't. 

I got my just rewards for that patience.

I got him.

It was good, us being together. His eyes, bright and shining as I pressed into his body, his hands, holding me hard, his mouth, addictive. He's passionate in so many things; I wasn't surprised that that passion carried over to here, to our bed. 

Sweat rolled down our bodies as we made love that hot night, our bodies connected, the windows open, a slight breeze floating in, causing the curtains to dance in the breeze. 

Afterwards, I held him close, feeling the slide of his slick skin against mine and murmured, “I love you, you know."

"I know," was all he said. 

For a long time, he'd never say anything but that – 'I know'. Does he really know? Does he understand what he means to me? What only he gives me? 

But still, despite my worries, I knew that he cared for me. It was evident, written in his eyes, and I reminded myself not to be a fool, not to push, that some day he would say the words.

And now, this morning, he's kissing me, sliding his hand up and down my cock, and I'm thrusting up into his hand as I touch and fondle him. He likes me to touch and stroke him harder than I like, so I oblige and he sighs into my mouth as I stroke him as hard and as fast as I can.

Finally, he whimpers and stiffens, his come flowing over my hand. I'm still hard – it always takes me longer to reach the peak than him. He pulls back a bit, grins at me and slides down my body, his mouth sliding over the head of my cock as he sucks gently. I groan and begin rocking my hips as he sucks me off. Letting him take me to the pleasure I'm feeling is no hardship, and before long, I'm spent. He slides back up my body, licks his lips, and with happiness shining in his eyes, says, “I love you Horatio."

“I love you too, Speed."


End file.
